


A Lesson in Love

by MercuryandMoonlight



Category: Miss Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crushes, F/F, Femslash, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, Romance, except sherlock won't even say they're friends until the last episode, gun to my chest ok i guess we are friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 13:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21302753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryandMoonlight/pseuds/MercuryandMoonlight
Summary: After Wato-san drinks too much and rejects the awkward advances of Moriya, she is grumpy and hungover. Cue Sherlock to make it worse, then better.
Relationships: Sherlock | Futaba Sara Shelly/Tachibana Wato
Comments: 9
Kudos: 38
Collections: Holmestice Exchange - Winter 2019





	A Lesson in Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gardnerhill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/gifts).

The usual cheer was missing from 221-B Baker Street. The apartment felt bereft, quiet as a morgue. Wato-san looked pale and ill, slowly sipping her tea and grimacing. Mrs. Hatano quietly informed Sherlock to keep her voice down as Wato-san was hungover and grumpy so her threshold to frustrated explosion was lowered. It seemed a perfect time to loudly slurp her tea and gleefully clink the china together. Wato-san scowled at her.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t know your own limit with alcohol.”

“That’s not why I’m upset. Just leave me alone, Sherlock.” Those harsh words should have meant nothing but they stung a bit. Sherlock’s eyes went wide, her mouth a tight line, and she left without another word. She walked the streets, lost in thought, until she came upon a market and found herself buying ingredients for a hangover cure that she always used. When she returned, she blended the concoction and poured it into a glass then set the glass before Wato-san, staring at her expectantly.

“What is this? It looks disgusting.”

“Hangover cure.” Sherlock looked annoyingly proud of herself, certain that this would make Wato-san fun again, mystery solved.

“You’ve been gone half the day, my hangover is gone.”

She moved too slowly to hide her disappointment, mask of aloof amusement back in place a second too late. “Well, in any case it’s still good for your health, may start to erase those bags under your eyes. You’re welcome.”

Wato-san’s irritation melted as it slowly dawned on her what kind of gesture was being made. She rushed to apologize. “Thank you, it was nice of you to make this.” She picked up the strangely purple drink and smiled, making a big show of drinking it.

“Yes, my benevolence knows no bounds.” It was starting to feel normal again so her plan was an overall success.

“You are truly the most generous of people.” Delight glittered in Wato’s dark brown eyes and Sherlock felt a twinge in her chest, vehemently dismissing it as heartburn. Wato turned away, smiling shyly. “You really are quite kind, if a little misunderstood. I am sorry for being so irritable before. It wasn’t just the hangover. I...last night, I went for drinks to catch up with someone and I went to his apartment and he tried to kiss me and I pushed him away.”

“What kind of creep tries to kiss you when you’re drunk?”

“He’s not a creep! He’s very nice and he understands about some things, being in a war zone, seeing people you can’t help. I think I wanted to kiss him but I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what? Bad breath?” Sherlock’s cavalier attitude felt a bit out of place but she couldn’t change it. If she let the moment become too serious, who knows what would happen? Wato-san having feelings for someone was upsetting in ways she could not even begin to fathom.

“Afraid that it’s been such a long time since I’ve kissed someone that I’ve forgotten how to do it.” Wato’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears and Sherlock suddenly felt awkward. This was usually the point where she left the crying person to someone else who could deal with such things but there was no one else here. She did what she could: offered a solution.

“Well, the answer seems obvious even for someone as illogical as you: practice makes perfect.”

Wato wiped her tears, confusion replacing sadness, an improvement. “What?”

“You need to practice. Few people are naturally gifted with anything, anyone who is any good at anything practices fiercely when no one is looking and then shows up with the fruits of their labor very nonchalantly, acting as thought they only practice on a whim. It’s all bullshit. You need to practice.”

“How would I practice? I don’t understand.”

“You find a partner who is more skilled, of course.” Wato-san’s cheeks were glowing red and glistening with tears and in the low light of early evening she was reminiscent of Snow White. What prince was awaiting her? Wato-san was the kind of woman who would settle for the bare-minimum, marry a man who was far beneath her and unworthy of all the love she would radiate each day, of her cheerful face in the mornings, of her unsolicited cooking and cleaning, of her openness to everything. She would hang on his every worthless word and give her nothing near what she deserves. Perhaps building up her confidence would make her more discerning and save her from this grim future of a barefoot and pregnant caricature of misogynistic fantasy as mother, maid, and lover. This is for feminism. “In the interest of time, I will volunteer.”

“You?!” That screech, mixed with the shock on Wato’s face, cut a bit deeply and now her pride was at stake.

“Yes, I happen to have a great many skills. Do you want my help or not?” Sherlock’s smile was sharp and dangerous, a parry whenever she was offended. Wato considered it carefully. She had thought about Sherlock with other women, that she seemed the type of woman who was confident enough to initiate that kind of thing, but only with beautiful women. Wato did not think of herself as beautiful and according to everything Sherlock has ever said to her, she was not. With everything she had been feeling lately, if this was a mere exercise, a scientific experiment, a training session, Wato knew herself well enough to predict it would end badly. It was hard enough to had a charismatic and beautiful roommate who was also brilliant and generous enough to help people in her spare time with her skills, giving everything to those cases, even her health, who’s sharp gaze felt like an entire audience captivated by your every move. It was hopeless and Wato-san had done everything in her power to keep that crush from growing but it seems fate had other plans.

“Have you ever kissed a woman before?”

“Of course I have! Obviously.” Wato-san felt she was digging herself in deeper. She did not want to offend her friend and she did not want those sharp teeth near her mouth if Sherlock was angry.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want to assume. You’re obviously very skilled but the mark of great knowledge is being a great teacher. Do you think you could teach me?” A teasing smile graced her lips as she released that sarcastic stroke to the ego mixed with a challenge, Wato-san’s specialty for getting Sherlock to do something. Sherlock was not someone who could be easily manipulated, she saw right through it but usually gave in anyway for her own reasons.

“I taught Shibata how to properly canvas a crime scene so I can teach anyone anything.” The challenge would be easily won as Wato-san was so depressingly easy to please. The real challenge would be raising her expectations and ruining her for any mediocre idiot that would pursue her. Wato-san always sat in the chair while Sherlock always sat on the couch. Tonight, Wato will learn to take up space, to demand satisfaction. Stretching languidly, Sherlock beckoned Wato to come sit next to her, giving an exaggerated look of seduction and pursing her lips. Her partner descended into a fit of giggles, still laughing as she plopped herself down on the couch. It drew a genuine smile from Sherlock, something soft and light. Wato felt drunk again, the surprisingly sweet taste of berries from the hangover cure mixing with the spice of the ginger tea she’d had just before. She wondered what she would taste like to Sherlock.

The two women drew closer to each other, Sherlock’s thin fingers on Wato’s warm cheek, pulling her closer until their lips met in a delicate embrace. Sherlock needed to show Wato that she was to be worshiped, treasured. In this world, it’s so easy for people to be disregarded, thrown away, taken for granted, especially women, especially kind unselfish women like Wato. Sherlock pulled away and looked at the sweet face before her, eyes closed, lost in the moment. She kissed both eyelids and felt Wato gasp. She peppered that sweet face with delicate little kisses, held it as gently as porcelain, kissing the nose, the cheeks, the chin, before returning to the small soft mouth left open in surprise. Her tongue slipped inside and tasted heat beneath the sweetness, like Wato with her spark of fire burning fiercely within. Sherlock delved deeper, feeling Wato’s soft tongue licking her own, tentatively at first but then melting into a slow dance, her arms wrapping around Sherlock's neck, hands delving into the short hair.

A small moan escaped their mouths, neither certain of the source. Their bodies softened against each other and Sherlock forgot about her goal, enthralled in the molten supple form of the woman before her, her arm wrapped around Wato’s waist, hand slipping from face to neck to chest.

They heard a gasp, then a crash, and sprung apart. Mrs. Hatano was on the floor, blushing madly while apologizing profusely and picking up the pieces of the tea set she’d just dropped. Wato-san sprang into action and began helping, placating Mrs. Hatano. Sherlock remained on the couch, looking disheveled and gobsmacked until she started laughing uproariously. Wato-san glared at her and started muttering about crazy geniuses and their inappropriate reactions. Mrs. Hatano could not help it and started chuckling as well. Sherlock clutched at her belly and managed to speak.

“Finally, Mrs. Hatano, you don’t have to worry. If I ever shock you into a heart attack, we have a doctor in the house!” Mrs. Hatano started laughing even harder and Wato looked incredulously between the two, unable to keep a smile from her face.

The laughter subsided and Mrs. Hatano picked up the tray and left after shaking a finger at Sherlock in admonishment.

“Wato-san, what time are we going to the market tomorrow?”

“The market? Wait, you’re coming with me?” Wato’s eyes were wide with genuine shock. Sherlock usually just sent her to the store if she wanted something.

“Mrs. Hatano needs a new tea set because you forgot to lock the door. Since it is entirely your fault, you should get her a new one but since I will have to look at it, it must be of good quality and taste so I should be there to supervise.”

Wato sighed with exasperation. She was happier when Sherlock used that clever tongue for something else and after that interruption, the heat that had been building up and pooling in her loins did not abate. Now she was frustrated for an entirely different reason, a case only her consulting detective could solve. An idea struck her and cast a shrewd look at said detective. “Keep annoying me and I won’t continue my lessons.”

Sherlock smirked. “You are the one who needs lessons, not me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Wato’s teasing smile affected her more than she’d ever admit.

“Yes, now lock the door and come get your extra credit.” This was a terrible idea but as scientists, they both knew there was no stopping a reaction once it started and maybe the product would be worth it in the end. Wato giggled as she locked the door while Sherlock tried and failed to stop smiling like an idiot. They fell together, all at once, fitting perfectly.


End file.
